It’s everyone’s favorite time of year: tailgate season. The weather is warm, the Orange are touching down and you can drink during the day. Who doesn’t love that?

Me. I don’t.

Day drinking seems like all fun and games: You get drunk around 2 p.m., go to a tailgate, hang out with friends, maybe make it to the game, then go home, nap and get drunk all over again. But I just find it straight-up confusing.

When most people wake up on a Saturday morning, they’re usually disgusting, hungover and tired — even though it’s noon and they’re just getting out of bed. But no matter how tired they might be, they can’t stay in and sleep because it’s game day. They’re forced to lift their half-dead selves out of bed and into the shower.

After getting ready for the tailgate, there is zero time to pregame. Tailgaters barely have room to pick up a stale bagel from the dining hall and down it with some Burnett’s for breakfast.

Now, tailgates can sometimes be fun. At prime drunkenness, tailgates are a hoot. But if you are in what I like to call “limbo” — drunk, but not so drunk that you’re totally fine with beer being sprayed all over you as a result of a failed shotgun — you might not enjoy yourself.

Let’s face it: Day drinking is weird. First, everyone is fully visible in broad daylight. Next, the sun is out, so for every shot, 80 percent is perspired.

The weirdest part about day drinking is what comes after.

You probably didn’t make it to the game, instead stumbling into Ernie Davis Hall around 5 p.m. for a special bacon cheeseburger with — wait for it — onion rings as buns.

But don’t get too comfortable. Syracuse University is a top party school, and just because you went out during the day doesn’t mean you aren’t going out at night. Clocking in at about 10 p.m., you’ll receive a phone call from your friend wondering where you should go tonight or if you’ve started getting ready.

At this point you’re disoriented. When you wake up after a day of drinking you will experience a range of emotions: confusion as to what time it is, regret from you-won’t-know-what and pure dread at the thought of getting drunk again.

Spoiler alert: You’ll do it all again, because FOMO.

Annabeth Grace Mann is a sophomore film major. Her column appears biweekly. She can be reached at agmann@syr.edu.

Published on September 19, 2017 at 12:13 am